Upswing
by knoxedfiction
Summary: 4x13 (Alone) – missing scene/ alternative scene. What if they weren't interrupted when they were? Daryl's POV, Oneshot. Upswing: In poker, a period in which a player wins more than expected.


Title: Upswing  
Fandom: The Walking Dead  
Pairing: Beth/ Daryl  
Rating: Pg  
Summary: One shot, Daryl's POV.  
Timeline: 4x13 (Alone) – missing scene/ alternative scene

"What changed your mind?" She asks the question like you ask the time of day.

All I can see is Merle's furious face, fist against the table -_ 'damnit, Daryl, you tryin to give away my money?'_ Rips the cards out of my hands - _'you've got the worst damn poker face I've ever seen.'_ He shakes his head and sucks at the air. _'That includes young Pete, and the boy doesn't even know how to play.'_

That might as well have been someone else's memory now. No one in it is left to remember it with.

Maybe Merle saw what he wanted to see. Maybe she doesn't know what it looks like when it's not paired with some big speech, eyes to sky, hands clutched against your chest.

Hope. I felt it when I lifted that last useless card, and I feel it every time I look at her. Only it's not Merle's money on the table. This time it's something of mine, but I still feel as if I had no say in the ante, just the same.

From the moment the sword hit Hershel's flesh to this exact second in time, I've dreamt of a lifetime of possibilities. Each of them foolishly woven with bright eyes and blonde hair.

It started with wanting to undo the horror on her face as she shot through the fence. It changed, at some point, with wanting to be the reason her face split into a smile. The reason she felt happy enough to sing.

In her line of sight, I can't avoid the inevitable. I work the words around in my head; my voice sounds like I'm trying out a new language.

"You know."

You know you've given me something to fight for. You know that you're the reason I'm standing. You know that you've been a bright gash of light on the darkest canvas of this world.

"What?" She laughs, oblivious to how far I've let myself feel hope. I don't want to answer her, because I don't know what to say.

I shrug and mumble into the kitchen air.

"Don't _'mhmh'_...what changed your mind?" She mimics me without malice. I look to her to find the words. Within searching her face, I can see it fall into place.

"Oh." Her voice is a popping volt of realization. Maybe my poker face hasn't improved after all.

Her face is blank. I don't know what I want to see but it isn't scared eyes, which are all that look back at me.

There is silence, and I lean into it like an old friend. Her eyes drop to her hands and barely above a whisper, I hear it.

"I'm glad it was you." I can feel the air still around me as she looks up.

"I'm glad we found each other." She finishes, and I feel incredible heat spread across my chest.

I'm not a gambling man, not really. It's always been someone else's game, and although I've found myself at the table more times than I can count, this is the first time I've had anything worth winning in the pot.

The truth of it is that the house always wins. Even when it loses, it wins. If there's one thing I've learned from sitting beside Merle's risk-seeking adrenaline is that in life, sometimes you're the player and sometimes you're the house.

I bring my hand to the side of her face. It's a light embrace but she turns into it and I fight every instinct to drop my gaze. My fingers reach into her hair, and I meet her eyes. They look through me and I know I see it. Hope.

I want to move, but I can't. This is it. This is my hand.

What feels like a lifetime and in an instant she moves beneath my fingertips. She closes the distance between us. Not part of it,_all of it._ When her lips reach mine, I don't move. It's so light I think maybe it didn't happen at all.

She makes a move to pull back, but the pressure of my hand against the back of her neck is just enough to stop her.

Her eyes are on me, and I know I have to decide. I feel a tremendous wave of fear wash over me, and I decide to wait. Her hand finds mine against her neck, and the weight of her fingers anchor me with a squeeze.

"I..." She starts and closes her eyes; her voice disappears.

I have never been so terrified of someone finishing a sentence in my entire life. I can feel the same fear I felt when Merle threw the cards at my face, his opponent smiling with greed as he collected his chips. Merle bet more than he had, his IOU on the table like a grave marker. The man's twisted lips opened, _'well, gentlemen... How can we clear your debt?'_

I didn't want to know then and I don't want to know now. I move to pull back, but her hand stops me.

"I just...don't know what do." The words sound like a confession. It catches me, because I know what she means. I don't know either.

There was a time where things happened because they were supposed to happen that way. People progressed for the sake of progress.

But now there's no first date. There's no easing into anything. Meeting each other was an anomaly, and we don't fit because it's right; we fit because we_ fit._

When I answer her, it is with a steady voice; certain that for once in my life, I had a winning hand.

"I don't think anyone knows."

She lets out a breath she was holding and I can feel the slight tremble of her hand rest against mine.

Maybe I didn't realize until I said it. No one knows what to do. If they're right. How to begin.

They just hope.


End file.
